Four
Knowing better than to get in the way, Tasha watched from the doorway as her husband focusing on beating the shit out of the heavy punch-bag strung from the ceiling in their garage. He hadn't even bothered to turn on the lights, but dawn was already starting to streak the sky with gold, giving just enough of a glow to dilute the darkness and let her take in his lean, muscled silhouette.
Waiting until he had grabbed the bag with both hands to steady it and, breathing heavily, dropped his forehead against it, she made her way towards him. His name on her lips, however quiet, announced her presence. She knew that you didn't sneak up on a guy like Happy Lowman, no matter who you were and however well-intentioned such a move might be.
But, despite his lack of an active response, she knew he had heard her and slipped her arms around his waist as she rested her head against his bare back. Even after years together, he still seemed to be in almost as good shape as ever and she let her fingertips graze over his abs. "You doin' okay, tough guy?"
"Ain't the one with the busted face," he managed, with a growl of frustration as his hands tightened their grip on the bag. "Jesus, Tash, how the hell do you stay so fucking calm? I wanna check how she is, but I see that shit and ... Last thing Lily needs after this is me punching holes in the goddamn wall."
"Trust me, I'm not feeling too calm inside. But she's not a little girl anymore and she does understand, you know," Tasha said softly, pressing a tiny kiss to his tense shoulder and letting her lips linger there against his tan skin for a long moment. "You've been there for Lily her whole life, Hap - she knows you're not angry with her and that it's only because you care."
"Been out here trying to figure out if killing the bastard would make her more or less upset," he admitted, still hanging his head. "I should be in there worrying about her and instead I'm out here, trying to keep from scaring the shit outta her or just going straight round there and ripping his heart out through his throat!"
She could practically feel the fresh surge of rage coursing through him, but instead of pulling away, simply tugged on his arm to get him to turn around and meet her concerned green eyes. "I hate that he's hurt her too," she said, laying a soothing hand on his cheek as she looked up at him. "I trusted him with my little girl and now it looks like he's just breaking her heart. But beyond that, I don't give a shit about him now. Lily's my priority, simple as that."
Heaving a sigh, Happy finally relaxed enough to take his wife in his arms, pulling her close. "Kid's lucky she's got a fucking incredible mom," he mumbled in her ear, making her smile as he held her tight.
He may have been a man of few words, but he was surprisingly good at knowing the right thing to say. Better than he'd ever given himself credit for ...
FLASHBACK
"Koz would h-hate me for this ..."
Happy shook his head, tilting her tearful face up to his. "Nah, darlin', Koz could never hate ya. He knows this would never have happened if he'd still been here," he said. "You love him and you're hurtin' – anyone can see that. And I'm an asshole for trying to kid myself this was anything but a bad idea."
"Don't say that. You've been so good to me, Hap," Tasha whispered, wiping at her eyes. "Even if you are probably wondering how to make me disappear."
He snorted at that and cupped her cheek in one rough hand. "Never gonna want that, doll. Looks like you're the only bitch tough enough not to run a mile from me."
Her eyes drifting closed, she leaned into his touch for a second as she heaved a little sigh and her smaller hand covered his. She may have been confused about a lot of things, but there was one thing she did know. "You're a better man than you realise, Happy Lowman. What am I gonna do?"
"We'll figure it out," he told her. "You and me. Whatever you wanna do ... Ain't gonna be alone, doll."
"How's Lily doin'?"
"Cried herself to sleep, I think," Tasha sighed. "God, Hap, she's so shocked and ... and just sad. I am too. I honestly thought they were happy. Turns out he hit her because she caught him cheating. I got some ice for that bruise, but I want Tara to take a look in the morning – just in case. It's hard to tell when it's so swollen, but there is a chance she could have a fractured cheekbone ... She catches him out and the bastard hits her!"
"Fucking hell," her husband growled, obviously trying to swallow down his anger again at that thought. "He answers for this, Tash. Has to. You know that, right?"
"I know," she nodded simply, resting her hands on his inked chest.
It had killed her just as much as him to see her daughter curled up on their couch and looking so lost. In her mind, it seemed like no time since she had been kissing her little girl's boo-boos better, patching up bumps and grazed knees. And yet there she was, sat next to a young woman who'd apparently been punched in the face by a grown man rather than pushed over by a boisterous little boy. Tasha wanted to know what could possibly have even come close to justifying in his mind the kind of blow that must have been inflicted.
But it had already been an emotional night and she didn't think she could stand to even look at the man responsible just yet. Especially not when he had her daughter desperately trying to make excuses for him. She understood, sympathised even, but it scared her too. Her girl, her beautiful girl, was smarter than that.
Yeah, it had been a hell of a night.
"You must be shattered," Happy said, running a hand through her hair and seeming to read her mind. "It's late. Or early, depending how you look at it. Should get some sleep, babe."
"Come inside then. Come to bed with me. Please?" she asked, looking up into his dark eyes and letting her arms slip around his neck as he leaned down for a kiss. "Lily's here, she's safe ... He'll keep."
Laid in the darkness in the room that used to be hers and had since passed to her youngest brother, Lily stared up at the ceiling and let a few slow tears slip down her cheeks unheeded. It was all she could see, every time she closed her eyes. Sometimes she didn't even need to do that – it was engrained into her mind, burned there.
The sight of them, together.
Her phone lit up again with yet another call and she reached out to cancel it before the ringtone could disturb her mom and Happy. Another wave of guilt washed over her – for turning up out of the blue and making them worry, for running to them instead of dealing with her problems head-on. Her mom was so strong and she should be too, not crying into her pillow like a little girl.
Except Lily hadn't tended to cry a lot when she was little. She didn't know why, she just ... hadn't. She bottled things up and thought them through in her own head until she felt better about them, or she told whoever she thought would understand best why she felt sad. But life had been simpler then and tears had simply been an instinctive reaction to the worst of the injuries she'd picked up in the rough-and-tumble of having mostly boys to play with. Or to the really scary stuff, like when Happy got hurt saving her and her mom from some gang.
And when her daddy died.
That had been the worst – losing her lovely, smiley daddy with his big hugs had brought a sadness that had seemed like it was just too big to fit in her little six-year-old self. She hadn't been able to understand, no matter how hard she tried, why it had to be her dad that went away. She had loved him with her whole heart, but one minute he'd been cuddled up with her for a bedtime story and the next day ...
Wiping the tears from beneath her lashes, Lily slipped out of bed and padded barefoot over to the window to pull back the curtains and gaze out at the tiny stars dotting the night sky. Compared to her dad, Travis didn't deserve her sadness. She wasn't a little girl anymore and she was under no illusions about what the Sons were capable of – her dad, Happy, Leo, and the men she considered her uncles – but they had never caused her hurt and had never been anything but protective her whole life.
The only person to shatter her trust was the man she was supposed to ...
Her reverie broken, a couple of the model motorcycles from her brother's collection clattered to the floor as she stumbled back in fright from the window. A hand had flown instinctively to her throat and her heart was pounding at the realisation there was someone out there in the shadows. Someone looking up at her window, watching.
Waiting.
to be continued ...
